


Two Lost Souls

by Azzirafell



Series: Fallen Angel [1]
Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Animals, Alternate Universe - Dogs, Angels, Aziraphale Being an Idiot (Good Omens), Aziraphale is a Hell Hound, Comfort, Demons, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fallen Angel Aziraphale (Good Omens), Fallen Angels, First Meetings, Fluff and Humor, Friendship, Happy Ending, Heaven vs Hell, Hell, Mythical Beings & Creatures, Soft Aziraphale (Good Omens), Soft Crowley (Good Omens), shape shifting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-27
Updated: 2019-06-27
Packaged: 2020-05-20 23:05:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,897
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19386322
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Azzirafell/pseuds/Azzirafell
Summary: An AU where Aziraphale is a fallen angel that has taken the form of a Hell Hound.Part 1 summary: After a meeting with Hastur and Ligur, Crowley is followed home by a Hell Hound. Surprisingly, the great beast isn't interested in ripping the flesh from his bones.





	Two Lost Souls

In the beginning, it was just Crowley. Or Crawley, as he was known back then.

 

Hell told him to get out there and make some trouble. So, he did.

 

He took the shape of a snake and slithered up to the Garden of Eden. It was his first time tempting humans. Turns out he didn’t have to do anything. He hissed a few choice words and they did the rest.

 

The humans were banished and the heavens opened with the first rain. Crowley slunk back to the depths of Hell to report his results. A bit of an overaction, if you asked him. First offense and all that.

 

* * *

 

Crowley became Hell’s golden boy. He was promoted and instructed to live on Earth amongst humans. Whilst he enjoyed the privileges that came with the promotion, he despised the attention. Unlike other demons, he got no satisfaction out of destroying lives. He couldn’t see the point. Humans were perfectly capable of doing the destroying themselves.

 

He lived a secluded life in London, performing just enough temptations to keep in with Hell, whilst keeping his distance. Hastur and Ligur were a hellish pain in the backside, but fortunately, they were slow-witted and gullible. At each meeting, Crowley fed them a bullshit line about what he’d done that week to secure souls for their master and they believed him. They weren’t, however, always overly impressed with his methods.

 

This happened to be one of those times.

 

“You’re going to love this one!” Crowley grinned enthusiastically as he pointed to an illustration.

 

“What is it?” Hastur turned his head to the side, studying the picture with confused, black eyes.

 

“It’s a USB stick. Well, the design for it anyway.”

 

“What does it do?” Ligur stepped closer, his tone of voice dripping with menace. Crowley wasn’t in the least bit fazed by the demon’s intimidation tactics.

 

“Humans use it to store data. But that isn’t even the best bit.” By this point, Crowley was hopping from one foot to the other, barely able to contain his gleefulness. “Go on, ask me what the best bit is!”

 

Ligur was growing impatient. “Just get on with it!”

 

“I changed the design! It won’t fit on either side, at least not straight away!” Crowley sagged dramatically when neither demon reacted. “Oh, come on, don’t you get it? There are only two sides but people will have to try multiple times to get it to fit in their computers.”

 

“What exactly has that done to secure souls for our Lord and Master?” Hastur did not look impressed by Crowley’s latest plan.

 

“Think about it. It’ll drive people crazy!” Still nothing. Crowley groaned and threw his head back. “Wrath, you know, one of the seven deadly sins.”

 

“I suppose so.” Hastur still looked like he didn’t get it.

 

“We best be going.” Ligur snarled. “Some of us have real work to do.”

 

“Meeting is over.” Hastur agreed. “We’ll convene same time next week.”

 

“Bye, you guys!” Crowley grinned and waved his hand as the two demons vanished into the stinking, steaming pits of Hell.

 

As soon as they were out of sight the grin was replaced by a sneer. “Some of us have real work to do,” Crowley said mockingly. His genius was wasted on Hastur and Ligur.

 

He clicked his fingers and the presentation behind him burst into flames. Something lurked in the dark. Its glowing eyes watched Crowley with fascination. He was oblivious to this fact. The meeting had left him with a desire for alcohol. Quite an extraordinary amount of alcohol. As Crowley headed for the Earth’s surface, the lurking something followed hard on his heels.

 

* * *

 

Crowley’s flat was more of a functional base than a home. He didn’t, after all, live in it. It was simply the place that he returned to. He resided alone as he had done since the creation of the Earth. If he ever needed something that he didn’t already have, he could create it from thin air.  

 

He sprawled across the white leather sofa in his lounge and snapped a glass of single malt whiskey into being. His houseplants were being particularly irritating tonight. Their leaves rustled with terrified whispers.

 

“Quiet down, you lot!” The command did very little to soothe the nerves of the ferns. The whispers became louder and more urgent.

 

Crowley necked his drink and unfurled himself from the sofa. He stormed over to the plants, hands on his hips with displeasure. “What has gotten into you? I’ve had a long day at work. Is it so much to ask for you to be SILENT!”

 

The plants fell quiet but not because of Crowley. “Jeez Louise, was that so hard?”

 

A low, rumbling growl broke the silence. Crowley stiffened as a hot swirl of air brushed against the back of his neck. His hand automatically rubbed at the place he’d felt it.

 

He turned slowly and came face-to-face with the biggest and meanest looking Hell Hound he’d ever laid eyes on. The beast had cream and white fur and blood-red eyes. Its snarling lips peeled back to reveal pink gum and bared fangs.

 

“Hello boy, how’d you get in here?” Crowley began to edge away, but for each step he took the beast stalked closer, tracking his every movement. Its tall posture, stiff-legged strides, and raised tail broadcasted confidence.

 

When Crowley was in range of his bedroom, he took a calculated risk and made a dash for it. He managed to slam the door shut moments before the Hell Hound lunged for him. He winced at the sound of a thud and a startled yelp. “Ouch, that’s going to smart.”

 

Crowley planted his hands on the doorway and strained his weight against it as the Hell Hound repeatedly tried to get to him. Its claws scraped the wood insistently and it whined in frustration. Cracks began to splinter the door and one of the creature’s claws broke through, dangerously close to Crowley’s face.

 

“Bad dog!” He admonished. “Go back to Hell!”

 

Eventually, the great beast grew tired. It lay down with a defeated thud, panting and exhausted. The battle between demon and hound had temporarily come to an end. Crowley exhaled in relief and sank to the floor, his back pressed against the door. He still had a problem that needed to be dealt with. The Hound, it seemed, was going nowhere. Running away and yelling hadn’t worked, so he changed his tactic. He decided to talk to it instead.

 

“I know how you feel; you know.” He murmured softly, ear pressed against the hard surface, listening for a response. “Hell is, well, by its very definition, hellish. Sometimes it feels like I’m suffocating down there.”

 

The Hound whimpered and sounded anguished. A wet nose pressed against the small gap at the bottom of the door.

 

“I used to be an angel.” Crowley continued; his voice tinged with a wavering sadness. “A long time ago. I never wanted to be a demon, it just sort of happened. I asked the wrong questions, then the next thing I know, a great big pool of bubbling sulfur! I don’t like being this way. Do you think I like being a demon? I despise it.”

 

An empathetic snuffle came from the other side.

 

“Sometimes, just sometimes, and don’t go telling anyone this, I wish I’d been able to keep a piece of heaven. Just a small part of where I’d come from, you know? It was boring and pretentious and just a bit too spacious for my liking, but it was home. A souvenir would have been nice.”

 

Crowley was so busy talking that he didn’t see the strange white glow filtering in from the other side.

  

“The others don’t really get me. I didn’t fall because of some great evil deed, not like most demons did. I bet there are loads of people who don’t get you, aren’t there? Bet you’re lonely and hungry. They never feed your kind enough. They starve you and chain you up, that’s how they keep you hungry for souls. It’s not fair, is it? Loneliness is a bitch, I should know. It’s just been me for so long.”

 

Slowly, Crowley made a decision and clambered to his feet. “It doesn’t have to be this way. I’m not going to do that to you. I would never hurt you.” He reached for the handle, gut twisting with apprehension.  “I’m going to come out now, OK? So, I’d appreciate it if you didn’t eat me.”

 

He counted to three and wrenched the door open. Nothing could have prepared him for the sight that met him.

 

“Oh. Can’t say I was expecting that.”

 

The Hell Hound, surprisingly, wasn't interested in tearing the flesh from his bones. It was no longer a great, menacing beast from Hell’s dungeons. It was the fluffiest, chunkiest and dopiest dog that he’d had ever laid eyes on. Its tail thumped against the ground furiously upon seeing Crowley and its tongue lolled from its mouth, as though he was smiling and deliriously happy. It barked and scampered around Crowley’s feet in excitement.

 

“No, no, don’t do that,” Crowley warned feebly, but it came too late as the fluffy cream and white dog jumped up and knocked him down. He landed on the floor with an annoyed oof. The dog peppered him in kisses with its smooth, wet tongue. He wiped off a trail of slime from his face, disgusted. “Get off, you daft dog.” He managed to push the dog away and he scrambled to his feet.

 

He watched in dismay as the dog ran around the bedroom frantically. It sniffed at everything, exploring the new scents, before jumping onto the bed, which was neatly made and untouched, seeing as Crowley didn’t require sleep. It rolled onto its back; great big paws pointed towards the ceiling. That’s where it settled, panting, ridiculous and smug as anything. It actually seemed rather pleased with itself.

 

Crowley groaned and lay down on the mattress beside it. He looked across at his newfound companion and instinctively reached across to scratch its belly. “What am I supposed to do with you, hmm? Where did you even come from?”

 

The dog rolled over and laid its head on Crowley. If it could speak, it would have said _nothing, my dear boy. I’m afraid we’re stuck with each other._ Instead, it simply nuzzled his hand with its snoot. 

 

“Well, I guess this is a thing now,” Crowley mumbled, trying his best to sound annoyed despite feeling just a little bit besotted with the ridiculous creature. He gently wrapped an arm around the dog, his fingers sinking into its luxuriously soft fur. “Alright, fine, I guess you can stay.”

 

With those words, the dog finally seemed to relax. It closed its eyes and drifted into a peaceful slumber. The weight of its head pressed down against Crowley’s chest. The sensation wasn't entirely unpleasant. Crowley rested his own eyes and was surprised by the overwhelming sense of peace that filled him. Despite the heaviness pressing down on him from the outside, on the inside he was lighter than he’d been for a very long time.

 

Something about the dog’s presence felt warm and safe, and if he closed his eyes tight enough, Crowley could almost imagine that he was holding onto a little piece of home.

* * *

 

(Aziraphale in dog form) 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading this story! I know this is a ridiculous AU but it makes me deliriously happy. 
> 
> What do you think of Aziraphale as a Hell Hound? Comments and kudos give me wings. Help me fly.


End file.
